Return of the Dark Moon
Chapter 24. Are You Insane
My vision expanded dramatically.
It was clearly the body of an old man, yet its condition was better than my own, which had mastered the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art.
It was just a shame that Ilgwangchoyawol's Qi deviation came along with it.
The moment I caught my falling true body, I stretched a hand toward the sky.
A golden Buddhist light originating from the wrinkled hand dominated the space, centered on the mountain keeper's body.
This is Shaolin's Unsurpassed Great Ability.
A technique that ranks among the top seventy-two divine arts.
In the first place, the temples on Mount Song all practiced Shaolin's martial arts.
The energy of the Unsurpassed Great Ability flowed out and collided with the meteor shower.
The surrounding area was completely devastated as a result.
Looking at my own peacefully sleeping body, I felt a surge of anger for no reason.
A meteor shower like this would have been nothing in my past life.
But there was no point in regret.
After emitting a golden radiance for a long while, the meteor shower shattered with a crumbling sound.
I threw another punch, completely pulverizing the fragments of the meteor shower, before finally letting out a breath.
All sorts of things reached my ears.
Even without extending my senses, I felt as if I could tell where everything was.
For example.
“A damn monk is lusting after Wangcho!”
It was Hwapyeong’s panicky voice.
Since he wasn't badmouthing me, I didn't particularly want to deny it.
In fact, seeing the stuffy Mount Song mountain keeper get cursed out was a little thrilling.
Twitch.
A thread of consciousness flowed out from the monk's upper dantian.
I guess a peerless master is a peerless master.
He must have mastered the Marrow Cleansing Sutra, the counterpart to the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art, as he was trying to break free from my control.
It was a good thing my upper dantian retained its level from my past life.
Though ironically, it would be a bit difficult to advance to the next stage.
The One Hundred and Eight Arhats and Beomjeong, who had approached at some point, seemed to be the only ones who recognized my state.
Beomjeong looked at me, formed a half-palm salute, and spoke.
“Amitabha, could it be that you have used the Soul Separation Technique, Hugae? I can feel the demonic energy used by the practitioners of the Sun Moon Divine Cult……
Tilting his head for a moment, Beomjeong continued with a bewildered expression.
“…No, how can there be the scent of Dharmic power in demonic energy? What have you done?”
I ignored Beomjeong’s question and deliberately changed the subject.
“Where is Beomcheon? We need to return him to his original state first.”
The fact that I had used the Soul Separation Technique wasn't important right now.
For a great hero like me, who had accumulated so many righteous deeds, something like the Soul Separation Technique was no problem at all.
“Where did you learn the Soul Separation Technique? Are you a spy for the Divine Cult?”
Apparently not.
It seemed important to Beomjeong.
I shook my head and said.
“I’m no spy for the Divine Cult. How long have I been with the Beggars' Sect? I’m the Sect Leader’s closest aide. Are you telling me you’d disregard the Sect Leader’s judgment? If so, then in my capacity as the Sect Leader’s deputy……”
“I get it, so shut up. Do you know anything about the Abbot’s condition, Hugae?”
Clutching my true body tightly, I dashed forward and said.
“I’ll know when I see him.”
We smashed through the skulls of the swarming monstrosities and headed for Beomcheon.
The strange beings that had flocked to the Shaolin grounds were tame compared to these.
No trees will be growing in Shaolin for the next five years.
It was the aftermath of the monstrosities.
Of course, it was also due to the inferno currently consuming Mount Song.
The rain of fire had long since ceased, but its scars had not yet faded.
But leaving the Gyeryong to put out that fire would be a case of losing the greater for the lesser.
The right move now was to catch the Gyeryong first.
There was no telling what kind of miracles it might perform with its mysterious arts.
This was a time to emulate the mindset of the Ten Precepts of Go.
Ilgyeokmujeok had probably killed all seven of Hwaryong’s disciples by now.
But having displayed such prowess, she could rest.
One couldn't ask for more.
Because even a half-baked peerless master was still a peerless master.
A new curtain of monstrosities formed on the path we had just passed.
Before long, we were completely surrounded by them, but the martial monks of Shaolin were robust.
I infused my voice with internal energy and shouted.
“Single-point breakthrough!”
Thud. Crack. Grrr.
The sounds of Shaolin’s fist and palm techniques intertwining and the cries of the monstrosities pierced my ears.
Amidst it all, I spread my senses wide and pinpointed Beomcheon’s location.
“I’m going on ahead!”
I vanished like a storm.
My surroundings blurred, and with a whoosh of wind, I was before Beomcheon.
He was standing, his head merely bowed.
It would be more accurate to say he was in a state of suspended animation.
Beomcheon’s face looked utterly peaceful.
The Abbot of Shaolin was sleeping so soundly it would be difficult to wake him.
The black eyepatch that had covered his one eye was long gone.
If you looked closely at that single eye, you could see a scar etched there, as if from a transcendent sword strike.
In my past life, he used to boast that he'd lost it to the Jade Emperor while dead drunk……
Thinking about it now, it might actually be true.
Even Hwaryong Jin-in was a Taoist master said to have died long ago.
The line between reality and myth was blurring.
This was a new martial world I was coming to know.
I raised my head at the sudden shadow that fell over me.
I met the eyes of the Gyeryong as it snorted.
Krrrung
In an instant, the chicken head flew toward me like a beam of light.
It was aiming not for me, but for Beomcheon.
The slowed perception of time unique to martial arts masters made anything possible.
With the mountain keeper’s old face, I chuckled like a virtuous high monk.
I immediately slapped Beomcheon across the cheek.
With the full force of Shaolin’s Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art.
Smack!
A formidable gust of wind arose, and Beomcheon’s head snapped to the side.
The strike of a peerless master, the mountain keeper.
Simultaneously.
The Shaolin Abbot’s single eye flashed open.
I quietly opened my eyes.
I leaped down from the arms of the mountain keeper, who was holding me with a dazed look on his face.
“I made good use of your body.”
The Mount Song mountain keeper said nothing.
The mountain keepers are nameless.
In all of the Nine Great Sects, excluding the Beggars' Sect, the role of ‘mountain keeper’ is taken by the strongest among the masters of the dojos or temples, but the mountain keeper of Mount Song is chosen from birth.
A tree keeper in childhood, a mountain keeper in adulthood, they are forbidden from ever leaving the mountain.
They are said to master a special technique to deeply absorb the energy of Earth from among the Five Elements, thereby elevating their achievements.
Perhaps that was why.
The mountain keeper didn't seem to mind that I had taken his body.
He simply gave a faint nod and said.
“I will be sure to collect the price for this later.”
No, it seemed he held a bit of a grudge.
First Beomjeong, and now him.
Bald people, I swear.
Beomcheon, whose eyes met mine, gave an inscrutable smile.
His thoughts had once again become unreadable.
[Anyway, this old monk owes you one this time. Live long enough, and you see everything. To think that the Abbot of Shaolin would owe his life to a scoundrel like you?]
Beomcheon muttered out of habit.
Makes me want to enter nirvana.
Only then did I realize.
The Gyeryong that had been flying toward us had been sent flying by the Shaolin Abbot’s strike long ago.
When had Beomcheon’s hand moved?
In my current state, I couldn't tell.
The Shaolin Abbot let out a faint sigh and spoke again.
[A battlefield like this will now always follow you. It won’t be awkward, will it? It’s what you’ve always done.]
As he turned, the characters for "Subdue Demons" were revealed on his kasaya. It was the robe he wore during the Yeongwol Great War, and it was his title.
Beomcheon, Leader of the Demon-Subduing Corps.
[Do not become a monster in this path of carnage.]
The warm scent of the temple drifted in.
With that, Beomcheon vanished with his supersonic movement technique, and the Gyeryong began to convulse, letting out its characteristic roar.
I spoke to the mountain keeper who remained by my side.
“Shall we go too?”
“How old are you to speak so informally? Did your parents not even teach you the classics?”
“I’m an orphan.”
After a brief pause, the Mount Song mountain keeper moved his lips to speak.
“My condolences.”
Regardless, I had already taken a step back toward the mountain gate by that point.
The Gyeryong had flown back toward the Shaolin grounds.
A faint, strong wind tickled my hair.
Although I had mastered the Flying Heaven Shadowless Movement Art, I preferred running with the Ten Thousand Li Chasing Wind Steps.
It was more satisfying to run.
The wind blew with incredible coolness.
I lightly cut down the monstrosities that were marred by the surrounding scenery with my iron sword.
These were commonly called Red Monstrosities.
The weakest of the monstrosities.
They posed no threat to martial artists, but they were a mortal danger to common people.
The mountain keeper, matching my movement speed, opened his mouth.
“Your swordsmanship. Your enlightenment is strange. Even the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors could not have manifested such a divine sword art. Could you be that Heavenly Martial Body?”
I gave a half-hearted nod.
However, my swordsmanship was a martial art mixed with the enlightenment of my past life; it was not something the likes of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors could dare to approach.
Ah, but Beomcheon is one of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.
Well, that guy is a Regressor anyway.
The mountain keeper’s questions continued.
The long-bearded monk was talkative.
I did like that he was quite knowledgeable about martial arts.
“Now that I see it, your balance is remarkably stable when you perform your movement technique. Is the key principle ‘acceleration’? It seems you move forward by exploding the true qi that flows from the Zusanli point below your knee.”
“The key principle isn’t ‘acceleration,’ but an intuitive search for ‘the fastest path.’ It feels like stepping on fallen leaves.”
“Oho, so that must be the Ten Thousand Li Chasing Wind Steps. What about Shaolin’s Diamond Indestructible Movement Technique?”
“…What about it?”
“I know it.”
The Mount Song mountain keeper laughed hollowly, befitting his appearance.
So the thief of Shaolin’s martial arts was right here all along.
Leaving the worthless old man’s ramblings behind, I continued on, beating up monstrosities for a good while, until my ears were filled with a clamor of voices.
I immediately stopped my movement technique.
Screech—
I scraped along the ground for a good while before coming to a complete stop.
It was proof that the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art hadn’t yet fully adapted to my body.
A natural phenomenon.
Regardless, at that point, I had already turned back toward the mountain gate.
Gyeryong had flown back toward the Shaolin grounds.
The Songshan mountain keeper, on the other hand, stopped walking while maintaining perfect balance.
Of course he did. He was a peerless master.
The reason the mountain keeper and I had stopped.
Across a gap filled with dozens of Monstrosities, Beomcheon, Hwapyeong, and the rest of the One Hundred and Eight Arhats faced off.
As the mountain keeper stepped forward, the Monstrosities retreated.
It was the effect of Pasahyeonjeong—the power to vanquish evil and uphold justice.
A unique trait of Shaolin's martial arts, separate from Dharmic power.
It was because the Songshan mountain keeper had directly unleashed his energy.
Leaving the terrified, trembling Monstrosities behind.
I looked up at the sky and saw Beomcheon and Gyeryong still baring their fangs at each other, fighting.
I let out a snort and walked down the path the Monstrosities had cleared, speaking to Beomjeong.
“One Hundred and Eight Arhats, let's go catch me and Gyeryong.”
It was then that the energy of the One Hundred and Eight Arhats Formation wavered.
A shock to the upper dantian of those who had to live with an unshakable heart, having trained in the martial arts of the Righteous Path.
Beomjeong's following words proved it.
“Buddha's balls—are you insane?”
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